"Or a powder-puff."
"Even more likely."
"Or—"
"Go on."
"Or a love letter."
"I have my doubts," said I.
"Well, if you do not know who she is, I'll find out,"—undismayed.
Doubtless he would; he was a persistent old beggar, was Max.
"Do not let it get serious, my boy," I warned. "You could not marry any one in this country."
"Why not?"